I am sitting on the oak wooden floor in the main hall of the building that our Church has been meeting in for 15 years. Over the decades this floor has had myriad pairs of feet pass over it. It’s remained solid for weddings and parties, soaked up the overflow of celebration, caught tears of mourning at funerals and, for the last decade and a half, has been one of my worship spaces. There are places now worn where thousands of worshipers have gathered, danced, knelt and travailed in prayer. In this......